12 December 2011

My Henry: four unlikely years later and the world remains resoundingly full of you, my sweet, so-loved, so-missed boy, in spite of the empty, gaping void you have left so far behind. I still find the heres, theres and everywheres of ordinary life can be turned instantly extra-ordinary at the singular thought of you. And here I go, uncertainly stepping into another year which should more properly have belonged to you.

Ohhhhh boy, my boy… This, written with love that burns as bright and fierce and sad as ever.

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